A Question of Morals
by CTMfan-13
Summary: Set after 5.07
"Shelagh? Are you alright? You've been quiet since we got home." Patrick asked as he watched his wife through the kitchen hatch. Her movements seemed off, slower and more somber, for lack of a better word.

"I'm fine, dearest. Just tired, I suppose. Dinner will be ready soon, could you let Timothy know? I think he's still in his room doing his homework."

"Of course." He stood from his armchair and began to make his way down the hall towards the bedrooms. As he passed the kitchen door, he noticed his wife's shoulders droop as they usually did in exhaustion.

"Tim?" He knocked on the door jamb, pushing open the cracked door a bit to see his son sitting on his floor surrounded by papers and schoolbooks. "Dinner's almost ready. Wash up and come help your mother, please?"

"Be right there."

Patrick made his way back towards the kitchen. He was worried about Shelagh, she hadn't been herself since their meeting that afternoon with Sister Julienne. And what a strange meeting it was. They had known it wouldn't be a straightforward meeting, that certain issues would be raised by the news of the contraceptive pill about to be distributed, but the usually cordial and collected nun had been a bit out of sorts.

He and Shelagh had discussed it the night before, deciding that it would be best for her to be involved in the meeting as an unbiased party. A bridge between faith and medicine, as it were, a role only Shelagh could play.

Watching her as she wrestled the pan from the oven, he smiled at his wife. His beautiful, intelligent, sympathetic wife. How far they had come in just a few short years. She turned from the oven to place the dishes onto the hatch and caught him staring. The smile she gave him in return didn't match the melancholy look in her eyes.

"Shelagh- if something was wrong you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

The crease in her forehead appeared as she stared at him momentarily before continuing to plate their dinner.

"Of course...but there's nothing to be concerned about." At that moment, Timothy entered the kitchen, walking around his stepmother and setting the table without having to be asked. He and Shelagh had a chemistry in the kitchen and were able to work together effortlessly and without words. "Can you get Angela situated, Patrick?" Shelagh asked as she handed Tim a jar which he immediately opened and passed back to her.

Throughout dinner, Patrick watched her continue to act strange. As if she was there, but not completely in the moment. Timothy noticed too, shooting meaningful glances at his father from his spot at the table. As the meal finished, Timothy offered to clear the table so that Shelagh could give Angela a bath after smearing mashed potatoes and spinach in places they didn't belong.

With Angela asleep and Timothy not far behind, Patrick entered their bedroom, tea and biscuits in hand. Shelagh was sitting up against the headboard, reading her latest novel or at least she was attempting to. Her eyes had that faraway look he'd seen at dinner.

"Shelagh...please. Talk to me?"

She startled at his voice, looking over to him and shaking herself from her trance. "It's nothing, Patrick. Is that tea for me? That's very kind, but you didn't have to do that."

"It's enough to make you upset, Shelagh. Don't try and pretend that you're not, I can tell." He situated himself on the edge of the bed and handed over the cup and saucer, waiting for her to speak. He didn't have to wait long.

"She's disappointed in me." She whispered meekly into her cup.

And there it was. The problem.

"I'm sure she isn't, my love. If anything, it's me she has the issue with." He decided to try and make her smile if he couldn't assuage her sadness.

"You heard her, Patrick. That comment about morals. That certainly wasn't aimed at you..."

"Darling. Nobody who knows you, especially Sister Julienne, could ever accuse you of not having morals."

"She didn't say that...she meant that I'd forgotten them. Oh Patrick, do you think...have I changed that much? I don't feel that my faith has changed at all, but perhaps in her view it has."

He looked at his wife. She looked so tiny, scared and shy. Not the vibrant, headstrong woman he knew. It was like she'd reverted back to the way she'd been when they were first courting. Unsure of the world around her and frightened of how to navigate a life without rules.

"The way I see it, she's not disappointed in you, she's just having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that times are changing. With medical advancements comes resistance, from all sides."

"Especially from the Sisters, yes I know." She paused, mulling over how to voice her thoughts. "Perhaps...perhaps they have a point."

Patrick knew he needed to put a stop to this train of thought immediately. Taking the tea from her and placing it on the bedside table, he gripped her hands tightly within his own.

"Shelagh, if it weren't for medical advances, you wouldn't be here! We wouldn't have the beautiful family we've created...the love this house is filled with."

Shelagh looked up from their linked hands to meet her husband's gaze.

"Does that sound like something that shouldn't exist?"

The faraway look that had been prevalent in her eyes all evening vanished as the corners of her mouth quirked into a smile.

"No. It doesn't." Squeezing his hand, she pulled his left to her face and bestowed a kiss to his wedding ring, the same as he'd done to her countless times since their engagement. "You always know just how to make things better, Patrick."

"I'm a doctor, my love. Comes with the territory." He leaned forward to capture her lips in a soft kiss before whispering "Would you like to hear my prescription?"

"Of course."

"I prescribe this hot, sweet tea I've made especially for you. The last of the lemon puffs I hid from Timothy. And an early night in bed...with your husband."

"Well, it would be foolish to ignore the advice of a medical professional." She giggled lightly as he closed the distance between their lips.


End file.
